Hints of Humanity
by Ciara in cotton socks
Summary: A series of oneshots in which Lily Evans discovers that James Potter might just have a shred of decency after all.  And in which James discovers that this might not be the sign of weakness he thought it was.


**A/N: OK folks, so what we have here is going to be a series of one-shots in a variety of genres (but mainly Romance, Humour and Hurt/Comfort) about the early days of James and Lily's relationship. The stories will not follow on from each other, or even be on the same arc. As such, you will not need to read any previous one-shots to understand what is going on. And for ease of reading for you, the readers, I'm going to put them all in one story instead of a series of individual one-shots. I hope that makes sense.**

**The focus will be mainly on James and Lily, and how Lily realises that behind his macho bravado Mr Potter does in fact have a heart and a soul (and maybe even feelings, not that he'll admit it), but it will also feature appearances from a number of obscure minor characters, Severus and, of course, our favourite Marauders. Oh, and maybe Aunt Petunia on occasion.**

**The thing is, I love my readers to get involved. I will have a couple of ideas of my own, but I would also love to hear what you guys would like to read! So here's the dream: read and (if you enjoy) review. Then you can drop me your requests in the review or via PM. Needless to say, credit will be given in my Author's Notes!**

**So I hope you enjoy the first instalment!**

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Lily Evans sits in the stand overlooking the Quidditch pitch. It's the last game of the season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, and the Quidditch Cup is on the line. It is a crisp, cool May day, so Lily is wrapped up in a red wool coat with a crimson-and-gold striped scarf knotted around her neck. She is also feeling decidedly grumpy.

Gryffindor are losing, and normally anything that annoys James Potter would make her _ecstatic_, but Lily is a Gryffindor, and she is loyal to her House above everything. Plus, Marlene McDonald is playing Chaser, and Marlene has been her best friend since they met on the Hogwarts Express six years ago. Lily really wants her to do well. Quidditch is everything to Marlene, and there is a rumour that the Holyhead Harpies have sent a scout to look at her. But things are not going well. Ravenclaw are flawless, and they are ripping Gryffindor to shreds. That Jones girl has already put twelve goals past the hapless Gryffindor keeper, and the Gryffindor team are finding it hard to get their hands on the Quaffle long enough to put an attack together. Marlene is floundering, the Beaters are resorting to stupid fouls, Potter is being triple-teamed and Ewan Wood is being held out of the game by the opposing Seeker, who is blocking his every attempt to seek out the Snitch. Gryffindor are heading for a heavy defeat, and Lily is not pleased.

To make matters worse, she was on patrol last night and slept it out this morning. She only barely made it to the pitch in time, and as a result the only seat available is next to-

"Black, I swear, if you point that wand at me again I will curse you into oblivion," Lily growls at Potter's infuriating best friend. Sirius Black grins that effortlessly sexy grin of his, but he stows the wand hastily in his pocket nonetheless.

"Oh come off it Evans, relax a bit," he teases playfully, running a hand through his silky black hair so that it hangs effortlessly over his dark eyes.

"Shouldn't you be cheering for your fellow _Marauder_?" Lily shoots back waspishly, a hint of a taunt in her voice. On Sirius's other side, she hears Remus Lupin snigger appreciatively and she turns her attention back to the game with a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. She taps the wand sitting in her lap warningly in case Sirius tries to retort, but the handsome boy slides down into his seat and folds his arms across his chest.

"Don't know what James sees in her," he mumbles under his breath. Remus sniggers again, and Lily feels her cheeks flush scarlet. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the Quidditch game. Gryffindor are beginning to peg back the Ravenclaw lead. Marlene fires an unstoppable shot into the left-hand hoop and Lily claps loudly with gloved hands. Slowly, the Gryffindor Chasers get into their stride and when Potter scores three goals in a row, suddenly the game is on. If Gryffindor can catch the Snitch, they will win. Lily stands up excitedly, the better to see, and next to her Sirius, Remus and little Peter Pettigrew do the same. They are all urging their team on in loud voices, punching the air each time the Chasers score, booing when the Ravenclaw Beaters cause an interception. Such is the excitement that Sirius has even forgotten to make fun of Lily. They scream as one, the red-and-gold clad supporters united as they cheer on their team. Then suddenly, Remus points to a far corner of the pitch.

"There's the Snitch!" he screams triumphantly.

And the two Seekers have seen it too. They are racing each other, both bodies flat against the handles of their brooms as they zip through the air. The crowd waits in breathless silence to see who will get there first; even the other players have stopped to watch. Lily follows the Seekers carefully, but she cannot help noticing James Potter out of the corner of her eye. He sits astride his broom, his expression taught and tense. She is so used to seeing him smirk arrogantly that the serious expression takes her by surprise. She thinks it is quite humanising.

"Go on!" Sirius urges under his breath next to her. "C'mon Wood, push her out of the way, this is no time to be chivalrous!"

They are closing in on the Snitch now, neck and neck. Madam Hooch hovers nearby, silver whistle pursed in her lips, anticipating the end of the match. Even the commentator has fallen silent. Lily is breathless as the two figures pelt toward the small golden ball, scrabbling wildly for it, jostling each other and then-

"No!" Sirius and Remus howl in unison. The crimson-clad supporters echo their sentiments, and Lily flops into her seat, disappointed, as Tina Davies holds the Snitch aloft. The sky-blue wave of Ravenclaws spill onto the pitch as the Headmaster presents the trophy to their captain. Lily stares in disbelief as the Harpies scout approaches Gwenog Jones while Marlene trails dejectedly back towards the dressing rooms with the rest of her team.

Or rather, with five of her team. For James Potter remains on the pitch. Even as the Ravenclaws swarm around him, shouting and cheering, he drops to his knees in the mud. His broom lies abandoned a few feet away from him and he cradles his head in his hands. Lily realises with a jolt that there are tears on his cheeks. James Potter, the ultimate alpha male, is crying. And then she remembers that he is the captain, that he had dreamed of being the one to hoist the trophy into the air. He's never been very academic, and his extracurricular antics are always losing Gryffindor points, but James is as loyal to their House as Lily is, and Quidditch was his one way of bringing them some real glory. She feels a pang when she realises that she feels sympathy for him. For James Potter. Because he is crying, showing emotion, proving that he's not the hard-faced arsehole he makes himself out to be.

Lily sits in the stand for a long time. She watches it empty completely around her with James still lying on the pitch. The Ravenclaws have long since evacuated in favour of a party in their common room. The rest of the Gryffindor team have made their way dejectedly back up to the castle. Even the bloody Marauders, after an all-too-brief attempt to get him to his feet, have disappeared.

It's getting dark. Night is falling, and they will hit curfew soon. It is bitterly cold too; Lily can see her breath fogging up the air in front of her numb face. She rubs her hands together and gets to her feet.

"Potter!" she calls down to him. "Hey, Potter!"

He looks up at the sound of her voice, no doubt surprised to see anybody still there.

"Evans? What are you still doing out here? Go back to the tower."

"I will if you will."

"Go away Evans."

But Lily is not so easily put off. She steps out of the now deserted row of seats and jogs down the steps to the pitch, stumbling only a little on feet that have not moved in a couple of hours. She makes her way across the grass to where James lies, his forehead pressed to the cold ground.

"I said, go away Evans," he growls as she approaches. He doesn't look up.

"And _I _said, I will if you will," she challenges. James raises his head to glare balefully at her. She can still see the grimy tear tracks on his cheeks. A sigh flutters through her lips as she crouches down next to him. "Come on," she says, her voice gentler this time. "It's freezing out here."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not," says Lily. "You're an irritating, rude, male chauvinistic arsehole. And you are also understandably upset about losing your first Quidditch final as captain."

James just stares.

"What?" she says impatiently. "Just because I don't play Quidditch doesn't mean I don't understand that you're disappointed. I'm sorry you lost Po- James."

"Why are you being nice to me?" he asks suspiciously. "You hate me, remember?"

Lily shakes her head impatiently. "I don't hate you James. I think I used to, but not anymore. And I don't like seeing you upset."

"I'm not," he argues immediately, swiping at the tears drying into his cheeks. "I'm-"

"Lying in the middle of the Quidditch pitch in the late evening, freezing to death, just because you feel like it?" finishes Lily. She reaches out a hand and gingerly pats his arm. "It's alright to be upset James. Oh Merlin, you're freezing! Here."

She takes out her wand and mutters a charm that causes hot air to waft from the tip, drying his sodden form. James struggles upright and shoots her the tiniest of smiles. He reaches his hand up to his head, but for once he is attempting to flatten his hair instead of messing it up.

"Thanks," he says, his tone genuine. "You didn't have to do this."

"And have you dying of pneumonia on my conscience?"

"I mean it," he insists. "After all the things I've put you through, all the names I've called you... if I was you, I wouldn't give a toss about me."

"I wouldn't either, with that ridiculous persona you put on in front of everybody. But when you let your guard down, like now, you're almost civilised. Almost."

James gives a throaty laugh. "Almost? I guess I'll take that, Evans."

"Lily," she says, and he stares at her. "You can call me Lily. If you want."

"Lily," he repeats, tasting the word on his tongue. "I guess I'll take that."

Lily smiles in spite of herself and gets to her feet. She sticks out a hand and hauls James to his feet.

"Come on," she says. "We should get back inside before Pringle locks the door."

James sighs and looks down at his soiled Quidditch robes in defeat.

"Your lips are turning blue," Lily says pleadingly.

"I just..."

"I'll make hot chocolate," she wheedles. "One-time offer of course, but..."

James sighs again. "You drive a hard bargain Lily Evans."

But he nods his head in acquiescence and follows Lily back up to the castle. Something has changed between them, Lily realises as she sits on the couch next to him in the common room a few minutes later, sipping on her hot chocolate. She looks at him and no longer feels the burning rush of irritation she has come to associate with Mr James Potter. Instead, she just sees a sad boy in dirty Quidditch robes, clutching a pink mug gratefully and smiling at her without any trace of teasing.

She likes this James Potter. The one without the overinflated head.

The real one, she hopes.

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**Meh. I'm not overly pleased with this one, but let me know what you think...**


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